


Safe

by EverythingisBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Fugitives, Gap Filler, Grief/Mourning, Hufflepuff Appreciation, Hurt/Comfort, I live for minor characters, Implied Relationships, Minor Canonical Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Second War with Voldemort, Slow Build, Work In Progress, does anyone care about these two, to tag anything else would spoil it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingisBlue/pseuds/EverythingisBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas 1997, and Susan Bones is looking forward to enjoying some time with her family and away from the realities of war and death. But the war catches up with her and soon, she finds herself on a run alongside one of her oldest friends, Justin Finch-Fletchley, as they dodge Snatchers and Death Eaters, try to survive in the wilds of Britain and come to terms with their feelings for one another once and for all, while doing everything to just stay alive and last the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

Susan pressed her nose to the window and sighed, counting the snowflakes as they floated down from the sky and collected on the ledge outside her bedroom. Christmas was perhaps her favourite time of the year - the days were always bitingly cold and fresh, the sky always bright and clear, and the house carried the perpetual smell of oranges, cinnamon and pine. But above all, family was the most important thing, and spending time with her family excited her the most, more than any present.

Her thoughts fell apart when the floor beneath her shook, so violently she crashed to her knees. As she recovered herself and got to her feet again, she heard loud, angry voices from downstairs, and the noise of curses being cast, and she knew. The Death Eaters were finally here.

Her hand went instantly to her wand, and she began to consider her options. She could fight. She could hide and only attack so as to defend herself. Or she could run. But, before she could decide, her mother appeared in front of her, blood running in thin streams across her brow, dust heavy on her clothes and face. She rushed to take her daughter’s face in her hands, and Susan went cold. Her mum’s hands were wet but warm and stank of blood, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Darling, listen to me,” her mum said in a hurried, trembling whisper, “Go and hide. Your dad and I’ll hold them off until it’s done, then we’ll come find you, I promise.”

“But Mum-”

“Please, Susan. Do this for me,” she kissed her forehead. “Your dad and I love you, so much.”

Susan couldn’t speak, only nodded, then stepped into her cupboard and gradually closed the door, leaving it open just a crack. She watched her mum Apparate out of the room, listened to the sound of struggling downstairs and then heavy footsteps storming up the stairs. Then everything was quiet. After a few stilted moments of silence, her bedroom door exploded and a thousand splinters shot across the room in all directions. Death Eaters filled her room, knocking over mementos and books and other belongings. One overturned her bed and another emptied her shelves as they looked for her, and as a tall, thin witch barked orders at the rest.

“Find her! And make sure she’s alive, I want her to see!”

 _See what?_ She wondered, but in her heart she knew.

Wand in hand, she pointed it toward the witch and muttered, “Bombarda Maxima!”

Half of her room was blown away, sending a handful of Death Eaters with it, but she didn’t have time to care. She sprinted out of the room and onto the landing, before falling back like a piece of driftwood. Her limbs were stone. A thin hand grabbed her braid and tugged her down the stairs. Each step smacked against her thighs, her head hurt, and her back felt as though it was painted with blows. Looking around, she saw what remained over her home - piles of rubble left and right. The witch dragged her into the living room and, reversing the curse, threw Susan to the floor.

“Look up!” She hissed and Susan did. The sight that greeted her made her want to scream. Bile rose up in her throat.

Her mum and dad were sprawled on the floor at opposite sides of the living room. Although her mum’s back was bent away from her, her dad’s face peeked out from beneath part of the roof. Blood matted his hair and he stared up at the ceiling blankly. She screwed her eyes shut and looked away as she broke down, but the witch’s hand forced her to look at them. Her fingers were as thin and sharp as needles.

“Unless you answer my questions, you will end up like them. Understand?”

Susan managed a nod.

“Good girl,” she cooed, before her tone hardened. “Now tell me where the Order is.”

“I don’t know,” she answered. It was the truth - although her family was loyal, they’d lost touch since her aunt’s death. The Order could be anywhere.

“Liar!” The witch shrieked, as Susan was shoved to the ground. Before she had a chance to recover, the witch squealed, “Crucio!”, impish delight laced in her voice, and a million white-hot pinpricks dug into her back. Each time the witch cast the curse, the pain drilled its way through her skin, through her spine, until it felt as though it’d rip out of her chest. The sensation overwhelmed her lungs, tore her muscles to shreds and soon, her screams were incoherent, echoing in her ears. When it finally abated, she curled into a ball and wept, waiting and hoping for death. Her hope was short-lived, however, when the witch appeared before her, shoving her face toward Susan’s.

“Where. Are. They?!”

“I don’t know!” She cried, “I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know!”

She expected to be cursed again but instead, she was hoisted up by her braid and flung into the air, colliding with the opposite wall. She shrunk to the floor limply as a shadow loomed over her and picked her up, again with her hair, then punched her across the face. Her nose broke with a loud crack and blood rushed down her mouth and chin, the metallic taste of iron was acrid on her tongue. Fist after fist met her cheekbones, her brow, her eyes, before she fell to the ground once more. Blows then rained down on her gut and torso, her ribs cracking under them. Finally, she was tossed to the other side of the room like a used ragdoll, and left lying in a heap. Instead of human, she was a collection of bruises, feeling only stinging pain.

A rough, calloused hand seized her neck as it’s twin twisted around her braid and yanked her head back so hard her scalp burned. Susan cried out but her screams were soon crushed between the wall and a body, one built like a mountain face; jagged and unyielding. Their rope-like hand tightened around her hair and neck, and she wept.

Stubble grazed her cheek as her attacker took a deep breath and then exhaled, rancid breath permeating her nostrils. A shiver slithered down her spine.

“‘Ere, mate!” He boomed, head turned back. “I’m keeping the girl!”

“Not fair!” A high pitched voice whined.

“I agree, he should share!”

 _Oh, please just kill me_ , she prayed. _Please just kill me_.

“Make her talk,” the witch demanded. “Be careful not to traumatise the bitch.”

“And after?” He asked, far too eagerly, a perverse hope lilting in his tone. In the corner of her eye, Susan noticed the witch shrug.

“Do whatever you want.”

“C’mon, darling. Speak now and I’ll be nice to you, I promise.”

“No,” she cried, “Please, don’t.”

“Only if you talk,” he told her in a sing-song voice.

“No!”

A blast of white light blinded her and for a split second, she was floating. Then she, and everything else in the room, came crashing to earth in a pile of rubble. She laid on the ground, watching as her attackers regained their senses, shook off the dust and scrambled to their feet. As they rushed toward her, she willed herself to Apparate anywhere, anywhere safe, and with the idea of safety in her mind, she vanished.

The next moment, she landed sideways on someone’s floor. Beneath her was a threadbare rug, atop a firm floor, that caused her side to ache even more.

“Oh my God, Susan!” A familiar voice gasped, underscored by the sound of footsteps swiftly nearing her. A hand touched her shoulder and she winced, causing it to instantly pull back, as the person crouched in front of her. Inching her head just the slightest bit, she came face to face with Justin Finch-Fletchley. _Safety_.

The urge to laugh out of sheer joy came upon her but when she attempted, all that came out was a sob. More followed and she soon found herself shaking and crying in front of him. Her fingers reached for his leg and managed to grasp the ankle of his jeans. Gently, his fingertips brushed along her cheekbones, traced her wounds, and then he held her face in his hands and whispered, “It’s going to be ok, I’ve got you. It’ll be ok, you’re safe now. You’re safe.”

He waved his hand over her wounds as he began to heal her, his soft chanting lulling her to sleep. Her breathing calmed as her eyes flickered closed.

**Author's Note:**

> I looked up the Battle of Hogwarts on a whim and noticed that these two were actually never mentioned, so I thought about it. A lot. And then the shipping thing happened; this is definitely one of those 'they stood next to each other for a split second' deals (which they actually do in the second movie)... how did I get here?
> 
> There's a plan involved in this somewhere. Somehow.
> 
> So, if you liked this, kudos and comments are really very appreciated!!


End file.
